Flashes
by Charlie019
Summary: One single screw up, accident, moment of carelessness. That's all it took, leaving behind flashes of memories for the others to remember him, or discard. One-shot tribute to the Walking Dead TV series first ever character to serve as a redshirt.


**Welcome. This one shot tribute contains a small spoiler to season 4 premier. If you watched it, feel free to go on. If you haven't, what are you doing here? Go watch it. If you don't know who Zack is, well, he's a new guy introduced in season 4. If you still have no clue, since season 4 introduced a load of people, he's Beth's you know what.**

**Update: Found a couple grammar errors. Damn you spelling auto correction.**

**Update 2: Noticed that I had uploaded the older version, which did not include the last scene. Oops.**

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_**"Never say goodbye. If you don't say goodbye then you aren't really gone, you just aren't here right now." **_

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It all went to hell so fast. He didn't think anyone every saw it coming.

The place looked fine. Empty. Deserted. Most importantly, filled with supplies. Now its swarming with walkers, snarling, growling, hungry for blood and flesh.

_Keep calm. You survived so long before the prison. You can do this._

He lost his shotgun moments ago in the mess, and resorted to using his pistol. Not as ideal, but it'll do.

More walkers started dropping down from the rotting ceiling. Some of them simply went splat and never got back up. Most did, maneuvering back up on their feet, or crawling after the nearest food source near them, ignoring their damaged and heavily decayed bodies. It was like a scene from a movie. Enemies dropping down from the ceiling without warning and stuff like that.

_Like ninjas._

He fired a round at a walker grappling with Daryl, tearing its jaw right off and exposing its blackened teeth and leaving a couple tendons of flesh hanging off its hinges. Regardless, the creature was still moving, deadly, hungry. He adjusted his aim, and let lose two more. The first ripped into its right shoulder and exited through the left, while the second did the job, obliterating both eyes and the bridge of its nose, splattering black, dried up fluid and flesh across a nearby shelf.

"Get back!" He yelled. Another walker, this time having set its eyes, or what's left of it, on him, shambled forward, moaning in anticipation of its next meal. Its greenish neck stretched as it strained forward, parts of its skin ripping open. Zack fired, the round, entering its nose, exited through the back, but its weakened skeletal structure also resulted in the destruction of half its head, leaving the back and lower jaw falling apart as it collapsed.

_Eww. Damned rotting shits. Though it makes it easier to break their skulls if they're falling apart..._

_Bob!_

Moving forward, he immediately tried to get the heavy shelf off the former medic, grunting in exertion while Daryl pulled him out. Meanwhile, more of the ceiling began falling apart, dropping debris and more walkers down on them.

_Crap!_

He lifted the shelf higher, Bob yelped as the pressure on his foot lessened, allowing Daryl to roughly drag him out. As soon as its done, he dropped the heavy furniture, crushing any of the bottles that remained intact and under it.

A hand shot out somewhere in the darkness behind him, grabbing his ankle and causing him to stumble.

_SHIT!_

_._

_._

_._

_._

"Hey."

She gave him a smile in acknowledgement, turning her body towards him, gold blonde hair swaying as the sun shined on her. Knowing what was coming, he leaned in for the kiss. "I was just about to come find you."

Pulling apart after the brief contact, she broke the silence first. "What's up?"

Smacking his lips together, he wondered how should he break the news. It wasn't his first time going out of the prison, but still, he was concerned that she might get worried about it. It sure was a dangerous place out there, was one hell of a miracle to find the prison and most of all. Beth.

_None of them were scavenging runs though…_

He explained to her the situation, how they were currently short handed. "Figured I'll step up to help, go with them." A flash of concern darted across her eyes, eyebrows going down in a slight frown. "Just you know," He swiftly added, hoping to take her mind off the matter. "wanted to make sure I saw you before."

The concern in her eyes seemed to be replaced with casualness almost instantly, before he finished what he was saying. "Okay." She said. It bewildered him a little at how casually she treated was at it, before remembering that he's the same. Everyone had changed, one just no longer starts getting worried about everything. Get worried too much, you'll go insane just by thinking about it.

_But still…_

"I just…, coz you know…" He fumbled, trying to find the right words. "dangerous going out there…."

"I know." She chuckled, before leaning in to give him a peck on the cheeks. Before he knew it, she was walking away. Even though she did that all the time, got distant, a little weird every time he went out, he still gets caught off guard the sudden change in behavior.

"So, you gonna say goodbye?"

"Nope." She told him without looking back.

_I knew it. No goodbyes. Ah well, guess the past year's been tough on us all. Don't know what happened before I arrived but we all had our struggles._

Daryl snorted as he walked by, dumping a basket onto the pickup. "Damn romance novel."

_Yeah? _He mentally said. _Pretty sure I'm not the only one who noticed you and Carol. Never saw you two doing anything but still… _His lips twitched and twisted upwards while he did his best to fought back a smile. _Or maybe Patrick. pretty sure that dude's falling all over you._

The man in question noticed his struggles and raised an eyebrow.

_I need a drink…_

_._

_._

_._

_._

Standard procedure when a walker caught your foot is to immediately try and rip it out of the monster's grasp. Then kick its skull in. Maybe crush it with our heels and hear its brains go squish and splat if you're a little high from adrenaline from the brush with death.

He didn't had the time to do anything as by the time he got his bearings, he felt the crocked and rotting teeth sink themselves into the meat on his legs. At first nothing, shock came first. Shocked at the situation. Shocked at the implication. Shocked at how, after everything, all those close brushes with death, he finally bought it. A single careless moment, that's all it took. All it fuckin' took.

Then came the pain. Screaming through his leg, across his nerves. All the pain, then more, as a couple pieces of his flesh was brutally torn apart and pulled off his leg, caused him to let out all the air in his lungs in a bloodcurdling scream.

Tyreese was the first to turn and look, eyes widening as he took in the sight, then the implication of what it meant. Bob was next, as he limped towards the entrance, the look of horror and guilt plastered across his face.

The tugging on his ankle and pain eventually got too much, causing him to drop forward on the dusty floor. The walker that bit him crawled its way forward, pieces of his flesh still caught in between its teeth, blood running down its wrinkled jaw.

Glenn pulled his gun out, moving forward. "Zack!"

The walker lowered its head, going straight for his neck.

.

.

.

.

A couple slams on the glass using his elbow. That's the rule of survival. Before entering any building, make some noise before entering. Rile the walkers up, so they wouldn't be lurking in some dark corner.

The group took positions at the front of the building, making sure they wouldn't be blindsided by walkers around the area and preparing to enter the store. Eventually, the silence got to him, along with his curiosity about who Daryl used to be. He had a couple theories, but they were brushes down or simply laughed off by the man himself. Now he got a new one. A new way to annoy him too.

"Okay I think I got it." He started, pushing himself off the wall.

Michonne, who was the nearest, caught on to what he said and walked over. "Got what?"

He simply smirked, looking at the rough looking man. "I've been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn." He said, sitting down beside him.

The crossbow wielding man scoffed. "'ve been trying to guess for like what? Six weeks?"

"Been pacing myself. One shot a day." So he would have something to do daily. Annoying someone who can break him with his pinkie.

_Okay, maybe he's not that good. Still, I'm that suicidal. Annoying Daryl himself. _

Daryl sighed in resignation. "Alright shoot."

He began to explain his latest theory, or conspiracy theory as Beth had jokingly called it even though he pointed out that there's nothing conspiracy about it. He pointed out Daryl's leadership skills, his position on the community's council, him helping others, his attitude and behavior. "Homicide cop." He finished, proud of his theory.

Behind him, Michonne burst out into laughter.

_Damn it!_

Daryl himself even chuckled at the ridiculous idea, picturing himself mentally serving in the police force before throwing out of his mind His brother would climb out of his grave and yell foul if that happened, he thought, feeling a pang of sadness just by thinking about it. "What's so funny?" He asked when Michonne couldn't stop laughing.

"Nothing," she declared, smiling. "It makes perfect sense."

"Actually the man's right." Daryl said. "Undercover."

_Right… Michonne kind of gave it away alredy. _"Come on, really?"

"Yup." He deadpanned. "I don't like to talk about it coz there's a lot of heavy shit y'know."

_If that's true I'll eat a pile of shit. _"Still, come on, really?"

The lack of reply told him everything that he needed to know. "I'll just keep guessing I guess."

"Yea, keep doing that."

A walker slammed itself onto the window, pressing its greyed dry skin against the glass, followed by another, missing half its cheek. The sight reminded him of kids messing around doing the same thing, except that these are long dead.

_Show time._

_._

_._

_._

_._

The place began falling apart, forcing Glenn to pull back just before reaching him. The walker above him biting deep down onto his throat, tearing it wide open, drinking in his blood as it poured down his neck, face. It went down for another bite without finishing what's in its mouth, widening the wound. He was still screaming. In fear, pain, and horror.

Sasha aimed her weapon at him, but pulled back when she nearly got crushed by the roof.

He could taste and smell his own blood with his mouth, along with the walker's rancid breath as it continued ripping into him. Another walker crawled up and went for his meaty thigh, joining in the frenzy.

Daryl began ordering the group, screaming at them to get the hell out of there. To him it sounded so distant compared to the snarling and his own screams. The screams broke off into choked gargles when the walker finally punctured his windpipe, blood pouring into his lungs. It would be fatal. Even if it didn't happen, it still would be, with all those creatures began to swarm around him, preferring to go for the easy meal. He would die quickly, but not quick enough, as he felt his fingers broken and chewed off. Every attempt to scream failed as air began escaping through his throat before reaching his mouth.

In the distance, he saw Glenn run out of the store, the rest right on his heels. Bob turned around to look into the chaos, his face a myriad of expressions going through his face. Guilt. Sadness. Horror.

_Your fault…_

When the roof finally gave in with a piercing screech, it was a mercy.

_Never got to hear that goodbye from her..._

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Watch the corners, watch the back, watch the dark places, under the counter. Watch everywhere. Never let your damn guard down. He didn't had to think what he needed to do. It just came to him like second nature. All those time spent before the prison came back to him, telling him what to do, and it would already be done before his mind could register it.

A dull clunk echoed into the distance as something was cut down. Not flesh. Fleshing things don't go clunk when you smash them.

_Probably Michonne._

He trudged on, pushing that damn trolley. Somehow, he took the one with jammed wheels, and moving it around caused this horrible screeching noise that almost drove him insane. Except he's probably already insane. Maybe he's already insane. You don't simply stay stay sane after surviving the past year of hell.

It'll be simple. Find, medicine, which was his job for this run, grab them, then whatever he thinks important. After all, they're running low on those damned drugs. Can't be helped, given the current population in the prison.

_It'll be fine. Even if things go wrong…_

He turned his eyes to Bob, the army medic who joined them recently.

_Its always the new guy who dies. And, not that I'm racist or anything, he's black. They always die first. _He chucked at the morbid thought. _That's what always happen in the movies._

_Right?_

_._

_._

_._

_._

This workplace has gone 30 days without an accident.

At first, he had expected her to break down at the news. Instead, he saw nothing. No sadness. No anger. No shock or horror. Just a blank expressionless look in her eyes. Dead. Emotionless. The only reaction he gotten was her getting up to remove a three from a board placed above a metal cabinet. Should had seen it before, though. It was totally foolish to think that she would still remain as the innocent naive girl they met at the farm months ago.

This workplace has gone 0 days without an accident.

"What?" Beth asked when she caught Daryl staring, still fumbling with the three in her hands. At the moment, he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words. So he did the next best thing that came to his mind. A shrug.

"I don't cry anymore Daryl." She told him. "I'm just glad I got to know him y'know."

Crying. Weeping. Seeing anyone doing that these days would be rarer than finding a unicorn. They all simply pushed their emotions aside, and kept going. Daryl wondered that by the time things got better, every survivor left wouldn't be human anymore. Just machines who kept going no matter what happened. Now, most just enjoyed what they had, as if it was the sweetest apple from the tree. Once its gone, they move on, looking for the next sweetest apple they could find. He understood what she meant. That's how he got over his brother. "I do."

_Homicide cop._ The kid's voice rang across his head. His death a brutal reminder of what awaits them all outside the prison, where reality is, how fragile their lives are. Once outside the safety of illusion called home, death stops for no one. None of them could escape from its clutches.

"Are you okay?" She enquired, noticing the thousand yard stare he was giving off. He shook his head.

"Just tired of losing people that's all." He replied. Never again would the teenager come and annoy him. Pester him about what he used to do. Never agin would he had to roll his eyes at the kid's antics, jokes and lame pranks. Death had caught up with the kid. Ripped him right out of their clutches. He couldn't say if he was glad or sad that his view was blocked, preventing him from witnessing the kid's agonising death before they fled. Zack might had annoyed the hell out of him, but still, there was a fondness for the teenager, and now the silence he left behind would be hard to replace.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around him, causing him to blink in surprise.

"I'm glad I didn't say goodbye." Beth said. "I hate goodbyes."

_Don't we all girl? Don't we all..._

"Me too."

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**Had to get it out of my mind you know. The Walking Dead's first ever character to serve as a redshirt. I'm starting to think that Beth is untouchable. Anyone who dates her is doomed to die. R.I.P. Zack. Or Zach. Goddamnit Walking Dead wiki, make up your mind!**

**See that review button down there? Click it and tell me how I did. You know, grammar, stuff like that, any mistakes and stuff.**


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